Blue Christmas
by orangepencils
Summary: England was pissed off. It was all America's fault for ruining his Christmas. But America had a good reason for this, right?


**Blue Christmas**

**240**

**Before last Christmas story for real this time. This little bugger came to me when I was sure I only had one story left and I couldn't just abandon it, not when it pestered me. So here it is.**

**Disclaimer: Do you realize that Christmas is soon and a decade has come and almost gone?**

**Title inspired by ****a Christmas song, yet again!**

Blue Christmas

Arthur Kirkland was furious and hurt. He had spent the entire day preparing a Christmas meal and it had turned out rather decent after a few attempts. The roast beef was a bit charred on the outside, but it actually was juicy on the inside. The mashed potatoes were brown on top, but it only added to the flavour. The salad had been rather impressive, but now it was droopy and soggy. The potatoes now looked grey and cold and the roast beef had gone dry, just like his eyes had after they had cried for an hour.

The reason for his upset was one stupid git of an American who had called him a few days prior and told him that he would want nothing more but spend the Christmas holidays with him. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up and falling so easily into the git's trap. It had probably been a set up and he had fallen for it hook, sink and hanger. England sat there and watched as the food grew stale and cold and his heart turned to stone.

After sitting at the table for six hours and drinking away his whiskey, he debated whether or not to throw the food out. He finally decided to leave it out for the fairies, in case they got hungry. The automatic lights in the dining room had gone out and he sat there, nursing his drink in the dark, when he heard the front door open.

Arthur silently rose from his seat and grabbed the first thing that came to his hands that he could use as a weapon. It just so happened that it was the now empty whiskey bottle. It would have to do for now.

England walked towards the entrance and waited for the assailant to get closer to him so that he could clobber him. It seemed as though someone really was out on making sure that he spend the worst Christmas ever known.

He watched as the man removed his boots and jacket before putting them in the closet. Who the hell did this wanker think he was? The stranger walked down the corridor and when he was about two feet away from Arthur, the island nation turned on the lights and got ready to hit the trespasser over the head, but froze when he saw who it was.

Alfred jumped two feet back when the lights went on and he saw England standing nearby, ready to murder him with rage seeping out of him.

"Hey man, listen; I can explain why I got here so late. I tried ca-" America thought that England would listen. Instead, the shorter man ran at him and punched him square in the jaw.

"You sodding bastard! You bleeding fool! You just had to make a mockery out of this didn't you? You couldn't simply make me happy for once, could you, you blasted git?" Alfred rubbed at his jaw before putting his bag down and pulling Arthur into an embrace. England tried to push away from the taller man and even hit him with the bottle on his back, but America was strong, very strong.

"Stop hitting me and listen!" Alfred finally snapped. He was tired, pissed off, hungry and he didn't need this from Arthur. Not when it wasn't his damn fault. The American loosened his hold on his companion when he stopped hitting him. America held him by the shoulders and looked directly into those emerald eyes.

"My flight was cancelled. The next one I was able to book left four hours later and it got delayed. It took me over an hour to clear customs. The cab got lost on its way here. I tried calling you God knows how many times, but your blasted phone was off its hinge, so it is not MY effin fault I got here so late and that I couldn't warn you." Alfred took a calming breath. This had not been the way he had planned to spend the evening, not at all.

Arthur stared at the man before him. Was it really true? Had it really been his fault that his evening had been so crummy? At least if he had known, he wouldn't have gotten so upset. Well, there was only one way to find out if this was indeed true. The older of the two walked to where his kitchen phone was and checked. Sure enough, the phone had indeed been knocked off many, many hours ago. England groaned. He turned around to face America and gave him a sheepish look.

"Guess I overreacted there." He murmured. To say that he felt foolish would be putting it lightly.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I ruined everything." Alfred said.

"How about I heat you up some food and we start over? It's only four am and we've both stayed up later than that." Alfred smiled. That sounded like the greatest thing he had heard all day.

"Sounds great." He smiled at Arthur who picked up the dishes on the table and walked towards the microwave. Once everything was warmed up, they sat at the table and ate the meal. It wasn't the greatest, but it had been made with love and that was all that mattered.

While England cleaned the dishes, America dried them off. When everything had been put away, Arthur turned to find Alfred had fallen asleep on the couch. England half lifted the younger man up and made his way upstairs. He made it to his room with a little help from America and when they got to the bed, the pair of them crashed on to it, exhausted.

Arthur removed Alfred's glasses and put them on the nightstand. He then covered them both with the comforter and America snuggled closer to him.

"Merry Christmas, Arthur." The American's lips found his own and kissed him tenderly before going to sleep.

"And to you as well." England replied before closing his eyes and joining his companion in sleep.

**OWARI**

**It is finished! I hope you enjoyed the read.**

**Reviews, no matter how short, even if they are anonymous, mean a lot to me and let me know that my writing brings emotions to you readers out there. I see you, the ones who only favourite, the ones who add me to alert, don't think I don't. Even if it's just an exclamation point, it warms my heart.**

**Started writing: ****December 22****nd**** 2009, 5:49pm**

**Finished writing: December 23****rd**** 2009, 12:04am**

**Started typing: December 23****rd**** 2009, 12:48pm**

**Finished typing: December 23****rd**** 2009, 1:17pm**


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